


Little Bird

by Evie_G



Series: Aderyn Lavellan [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, POV Solas, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 20:56:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3824830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evie_G/pseuds/Evie_G
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He thought he had loved her from the moment she had fallen in battle.</p>
<p>Just a little drabble set roughly after Haven. Solas has feelings and whatnot.<br/>First time posting - criticism welcome :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Bird

He thought he had loved her from the moment she had fallen in battle.

His spells were flying all around them but it was all just too damned slow. No matter how far he fade-stepped, no matter how hard Cassandra hacked or how fast Bianca twanged, their enemies were pressing, gaining inch by inch. He threw up a hastily enchanted barrier to protect the Inquisitor from the advancing Templars, not his best work by far but the best he could do in the circumstances. It was not enough. He couldn't protect her and it was his fault she had been struck.

Solas' heart stopped beating as he watched a red lyrium tipped arrow pierce her back. She was punched forward to her knees, another Red Templar taking advantage by slashing her torso. He was overcome with emotions he had not felt in an eternity but in that moment he lacked the comprehension needed to sift through them all. Pain, searing pain, was all he truly felt. His breath caught in his throat and time stilled. He just had to make it to her. The thudding in his chest returned with such a force that he thought it was he himself who was dying. There was too much blood staining the grass already and the Templar was getting ready for his killing blow.

He raced to her side, as did all their companions. Desperate to ward off the coming strike, he sent a tremor through the earth that froze their enemies solid, encasing them in thick sheets of ice. It would only hold for a moment, but that was all they really needed. He paid no heed to Cassandra and Varric as he carefully lifted the Inquisitor in his arms and removed her from the battle ground as fast as he could. A pulse was beating weakly at her neck but she was unresponsive. There was so much blood it panicked him almost to the point of frenzy. The arrow had cut cleanly through her right shoulder, the red lyrium casing on the arrowhead was still intact with no shards infecting her slight frame. Her torso, however, was in ribbons. The Red Templar had slashed viciously. Solas poured an elfroot potion over her chest to help clear away the streaming blood and cleanse the wounds. He winced at the depth of the cuts, fighting to keep his panic at bay. Bracing himself, he knocked back a lyrium potion and began cascading what was left of his mana over her. He couldn't lose her, not now. He willed her to life, following the magic as it raced through her veins. He felt the muscles re-forming, the blood vessels joining back together and her cracked ribs mending. He hoped it would be enough, for he had little else to give.

She was stable enough for them to move her to the Dalish camp nearby. The Inquisitor had already reached out and helped the camp on a number of occasions so although distrusting, the elves were willing to accommodate them. The Keeper greeted them with indifference.

Oh how Solas hated turning to these people for aid! They insisted he had done all he could, that he should rest. They took her away from him, stripped her of dignity so that they could pray to the Gods she did not trust in. His blood boiled so hot it was all he could do to stop the wolf within from ripping through his fragile human flesh and devouring them all. More than he hated the Dalish, he hated his own limitations. They were right – he _had_ done all he could and his magic was spent. If he had unlocked his true power, his foci, things would be different. He could have healed her in the blink of an eye.

Her blood was still on his hands, flaking brown streams of it. He knew, deep in his mind, that he was making things worse with all his fussing. Cassandra and Varric were sat wrapped in their own thoughts, quietly accepting that the Dalish would do their best for the Inquisitor. The pair surely must know now his true feelings; that he would give anything to this woman, _for_ this woman. But he couldn't sit idle, not while the Inquisitor’s life hung in the balance.

The Inquisitor was unconscious for three days and Solas hadn't slept a moment. After a while, the Dalish realised it was easier to let him remain by her side. His murmured words of comfort and healing trickled mana through her, trying as best as he could to limit the damage to her pale skin that would be permanently marred by all of his mistakes. He had caused her so much pain already, it was almost ironic that she was breaking his heart by her mere existence. If she was the living embodiment of all his wrong choices, why then was she so perfect? Why did he insist on hurting her further? He could tell himself that he was only staying to give the Inquisition the best chance of fighting the evil he had unleashed upon the world but he would by lying. He was staying because he loved her, and that was the most terrifying and selfish thought he had had in a thousand years.

 

When she awoke, her green eyes fixed upon his in surprise. A quick smile turned into a wince as she tried to shift on her cot. “Hahren, if you look this bad then I must look like utter death,” she mumbled, her mood appearing bright despite the pain.

"Da'len, I’m glad you’re awake". His words were clumsy, sticking to the roof of his mouth. "I will fetch you some refreshments," he muttered and turned to leave the tent.

"Wait!" She grabbed his arm, gasping in pain as she twisted to catch him. "Thank you for everything. You've saved my life yet again Solas, I am in your debt".

"There is no debt here da'len—"

Her hand burned on his wrist, her gaze unwavering, "Aderyn. My name is Aderyn. Please".

"Aderyn". Her name tasted sweet upon his lips. He was not worthy of speaking it.

Now that he knew the Inquisitor would truly be alright, his passions faded and his cold nature returned. It would not do to carry on this dalliance. He must steel himself and think of the coming trials that awaited them all. But it was harder now. Harder that he had tasted her mortality. Harder that he had admitted to himself the strength of his feelings. Harder that his little bird was flying again. 

He thought he had loved her from the moment she had fallen in battle, but now he knew that he had loved her since they first met. And he could never have her.


End file.
